Balance and Body Control
by LSgrimm91
Summary: A little diddy about an encounter between Sam and Jack at the USAF Academy.  Special Edition Story.  Get your mind out of the gutter; it's not one of those stories.


**Summary: Little pre-series diddy about a brief encounter between Sam and Jack at the USAF academy.**  
><strong>Anote: A small homage for my retirement from the Australian Air force Cadets. After seven - **_**very**_** - long years, I'm passing on the sword to my Sergeant (who got me into FanFic, oddly enough). So this is for me and my Sergeant, **_**Mistreated and Forgotten**_**. And, of course, for all you lovely readers :D Reviews are always welcome. Enjoy!**

~ Balance and Body Control ~

_February 14th, 1986_  
><em>United States Air Force Academy, Colorado Springs<em>

"I'll be fine, Major. Take a walk for a couple of minutes," General Marshall pressed his hand to Jack's chest as he leaned out the office door. Jack looked over his shoulder warily and then nodded. This assignment was a bit of a joke: after nine years of Special Forces, he was stuck babysitting a Brigadier General.

As the door closed, Jack sighed loudly and rolled his shoulders. Turning around to survey his surroundings, he pulled out his sunglasses from his pocket and slid them on. The day was heavily overcast but Jack would prefer to freely observe whatever he liked. He stepped back and peered around the corner of the building.

A cement pathway ran along the side of the road, stretching from the gymnasium to the officer's mess, passing in front of the accommodation blocks, armoury, academy headquarters and the parade ground. The gymnasium was supposedly well-equipped and probably worth a look. With his destination firmly decided upon, Jack straightened his blue tie and began walking down the pathway.

There were a few after-hour exercises being conducted, including a physical training session on the oval across the road. The class of twenty cadets were engaged in a game of football; some wore blue shirts and other wore white, obviously to differentiate between the teams. As Jack watched them and continued past the accommodation blocks, a loud - and apparently very frustrated - growl stopped him in his tracks. Looking around and finding no one, he took a few paces backwards and looked to the back of the building. He found the source of the aggravated sounds.

A female cadet in civilian clothing was hiding in the shadow of the building, standing on a square of cement near the air conditioning unit. Her body was inclined away from Jack's and she was staring intently at the ground. Whatever she was looking at, it was pissing her off. She stopped and looked up, covering her face with her hands. She didn't notice his approach and was still unaware of his presence by the time he managed to stop within two feet of her.

Jack took his glasses of with deliberate silence and took a quick visual inventory of the woman. She was young, probably only eighteen or nineteen. Her sandy blonde hair was pulled back into a long pony tail. Her grey jeans were skinny and the powder blue sweater she wore showed off her slight hourglass figure.

Just as Jack was about to surprise her with an abrupt inquiry about what she was doing, she nearly stood on his foot and did an about face. She obviously wasn't expecting to find an Air Force Major standing behind her. At least, that was what the loud squeal she let out suggested. She stumbled backwards, her eyes wide.

Jack did his best not to smirk.

The young woman doused his bemusement by quickly standing to attention.

"I didn't see you there, Sir," her body became straight as an arrow and Jack was sure a good breeze would be enough to knock her over. She'd probably fall at attention too.

"Relax, Cadet," Jack waved a dismissive hand at her. She stayed at attention, but her shoulders slumped a little. "Might I ask what you're doing?" he pointed to her with his folded glasses before hooking them on the pocket of his jacket.

"Just getting some drill practice in, Sir," she shrugged.

"Not working for you?" Jack dropped an eyebrow curiously and tilted his head. This must be one of the first-year cadets, still trying to get her bearings. The Cadet looked down at her feet, then back up.

"Ah, not really, Sir," she shook her head, having suffered probably many failed attempts to get the movements.

"Which part?" Jack asked, his interest now peaked. Drill was once his area of expertise, but that was a long time ago.

"Just the 'about face'. I keep losing my balance or putting my foot in the wrong spot," she explained. She gave him a demonstration, her body going rigid as she fought to keep her balance at the completion of the movement. Jack could instantly spot the common faults of her execution.

"Alright," he beckoned for her to turn around with his hands. "Okay, Cadet...?"

"Carter, Sir,"

"_Carter_. Problem number one: when you take your right foot back, keep your weight on the left. That's the one you'll be turning on, so keep your weight above the pivot point. It'll make the turn easier. Now..." Jack lifted his hands to her shoulders, hovering above them.

"May I?" he asked, seeking permission to touch her. It was too easy to be done for sexual harassment these days. She nodded and he gently laid his hands on her shoulders.

"Relax your shoulders." She did, but only a little. "More..." he persisted until she was actually relaxed. "Now, push your wrists into your hips. Use your stomach muscles to keep your balance, not your back and shoulders." Jack looked down at her wrists to see them pressed into her hips, as he had instructed. Jack nodded and looked up.

Now that he was close enough to see in the waning daylight, he found her eyes were a remarkable blue. He wished he had his sunglasses back on so he could stare into them. At the risk of making her uncomfortable, Jack removed his hands and briefly averted his gaze, taking a step away from the Cadet.

"Try it. Remember: it's about balance and body control." He gave a spinning gesture with his hand, prompting her to try on her own. She did so, and Jack grinned at her success. No wobbling. No strain in the shoulders.

Carter turned back, a victorious smirk on her face.

"Thank you, Sir!" she beamed. Jack chuckled at her enthusiasm.

"No problem, Carter. Keep up the good work." He smiled and turned away, noting that he'd spent enough time away from General Marshall.

"Always, Sir!" she called to him. Jack stopped and looked over his shoulder to the young woman. He couldn't help but feel that he'd met her before. Her face was familiar and he was sure he'd met a few Carter's in his life. But _she_ was just beyond his reach. If only he'd asked for her first name.

Shaking off the strange sensation, Jack touched the brim of his cap and walked away.

Maybe, one day, she'd teach _him_ something to return the favour.

~ SJ ~

**Well, that was unusual. I've been teaching drill for four years, but explaining a movement I've never really done before... odd. Anyhoo, a little anticlimactic, but you all **_**know**_** how I feel about clichés**.


End file.
